


To Get Away

by MimBeech



Category: Reno: 911!
Genre: Camping, Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Drinking, M/M, References to Drugs, References to Suicide, These are all part of the job, They don't happen to the characters themselves!, references to murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 12:09:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17704016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimBeech/pseuds/MimBeech
Summary: In a shitty bar after a shitty shift, Lt. Dangle and Dep. Junior make plans to go camping. Little do they know that some time away will allow their friendship to develop into something deeper.





	To Get Away

“You want another beer?”

Jim looked up at Travis balefully, quirking an eyebrow. “What d'you think?”

“Alright then, that’ll be a yes.”

The rest of the squad had left about half an hour ago, leaving Lieutenant Jim Dangle and Deputy Travis Junior the last two cops sitting around the two bar tables that had been pushed together for the group. Empty beer glasses, and Clemmy’s empty margarita tumblers, cluttered its surface. 

Jim sighed and rested his head on his hands, closing his eyes for a brief reprieve from the room’s spinning. Maybe another beer wasn’t such a great idea. Then again, today had been really shit, and what else did the members of the Reno Sherriff’s Department do after a shitty day, but drink to forget.

The Department had received some decent intel that meth was being made in a house by the Truckee Meadows Community College. The squad had acted on that intel that morning, and had bust into the run-down student accom house. 

In the basement, they’d found three people. Well, two people and a corpse. 

Apparently, the guy in charge of the operation had decided that killing his workers was preferable to losing them to jail-time. As Dangle had attempted to negotiate with the small-time meth lord, the guy had shot his other worker (who had been a lecturer at TMCC, whose wife had been distraught when Dangle had had to tell her about her husband’s death later in the evening). Then, after killing two people, with half the squad in the basement with him, the guy decided to make today the worst it could be. He refused negotiation and shot himself in the head. 

All Jim could think, now at the bar, drowning his sorrows in piss-grade beer, was _what an asshole_.

Travis returned with two beers, sat down next to Jim, slipped off the stool, stumbled, then sat again. He was getting just as drunk as Jim, but it was a testament to a long career of drinking himself into unconsciousness after shitty days that he didn’t spill a drop of his drink.

The two men sat in companionable, if maudlin, silence for a while. About half-way through his glass, Jim turned blearily to Travis.

“I love Reno.”

Travis took a while to respond, but when he did he snorted derisively, “You don’t.”

“Yeah, I don’t…” Dangle frowned, “No, no, I do. I do love Reno. It’s just a bit fucked sometimes.”

Travis mmmhmed in agreement, blinking slowly and listing dangerously to one side.

Jim noted his friend’s precarious position and pulled on his sleeve, righting him. Travis followed the trajectory through and rested his head heavily on Jim’s shoulder. With a familiar huff, Jim reached up awkwardly and patted Travis’ face, knocking the other man’s trademark sun-glasses askew.

“It’s just a bit fucked sometimes, Reno, and I, sometimes, I think, I’d like to get away from it.” Jim’s speech was slurred, and he wasn’t entirely sure Travis was listening.

When Travis didn’t respond, Jim patted his face again, a bit more forcefully.

“Nngh-a wha’?”

Jim rolled his eyes, then decided that had been a bad idea, because the room didn’t stop moving after his eyes had stopped moving. _Huh._

“I was just saying, how nice it would be to get away from Reno, maybe for a bit…” Jim took another contemplative sip of his beer.

“What, like a holiday?”

“Mm, yeah. Yeah, like a holiday. I know you have this next weekend off duty, I signed it off—“ Jim punctuated the word with a hand movement that knocked two empty glasses over, one of which fell off the table, “and I know you were probably planning on just sitting around in your trailer watching TV and drinking, but I have it off too, and what if… what if… you came camping with me instead?”

Travis was silent for a moment, then he took his head off Jim’s shoulder, slid his skewed shades down his nose, looked his friend directly in the eyes and said, “No-one’s as camp as you Jim.”

“Seriously! Seriously, man. What if you and I, took off for a couple-a days to the Sierra Nevada?”

Jim and Travis had always been kind of close. Even after Jim had finally pinned all those bike pranks on Deputy Junior. Of all the deputies, Travis was the one Jim enjoyed shifts with most. 

When Travis’ trailer had been impounded by his insurance company after it had been stolen by his accidental mail-order bride ( _long story_ ), Travis had asked Jim if he could stay with him for a few weeks. 

When the whole squad met for drinks, they were often the last ones left, sharing one last drink when everyone else had gone. And when Jim turned up to the Department hung over, after one of those nights, Travis was always there with a strong black coffee, topped up with the terrible vodka he kept in his desk drawer just for those occasions. 

Travis looked at Jim, “I don’t have money.”

Jim shrugged, “That’s the good thing about camping, don’t cost that much. And I’ve got all the equipment.”

When Travis still looked unsure, Jim demurred, “I mean, you don’t have to. I just, I just thought, maybe you’d also like some time out. I don’t, I don’t even know what I was thinking. It was a stupid idea, you don’t—“

Travis cut him off with a wave of his hand, “Nah, it’s fine man. I think maybe I would like that.”

Jim looked surprised, “Really?”

“Well, I haven’t been camping since I was in school, and even then, I didn’t pay attention. But you’re right, it’d be nice to have some time out from Reno, and to spend some time toge—“

Travis cut himself off, reddening, and pushed his glasses back up so they covered his eyes once more. He cleared his throat, “Yeah dude, let’s go camping.”

***

Travis drove to Jim’s apartment around midday that Friday. They’d agreed to take Travis’ Toyota Camry LE on the long drive up to the Sierra. _Well, duh, Jim didn’t have a car._

Travis felt nervous as he pulled into the parking lot. He’d been harboring a gentle crush on his superior officer for a number of months now – ever since he’d been forgiven for being a dick about Jim’s bike, which he knew now had been a shitty way of trying to get Jim’s attention. And today, he was going to drive into the Nevada wilderness with Lieutenant Jim Dangle, and spend a few days contemplating nature with him. 

Hell, he didn’t know what they were going to do. He just knew that when Jim had suggested going camping, he’d wanted to go. 

He’d packed a bag of clothes and toiletries, which was all Jim had said he’d need to bring. That, and an icebox, complete with ice and beers. He fiddled with the old cassette player in the car, ejecting Steely Dan and deciding on a Fleetwood Mac album to start the drive. 

Finally, unable to stall any longer, he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, stepped out of the car, and walked across the parking lot to the door of Jim’s ground floor apartment. 

When he knocked on the door, he heard a thump, some muffled cursing, and Jim’s voice calling out, “Be right there!”

The corners of Travis’ mouth curled slightly, and his heart-rate decreased somewhat as he patiently waited at the door.

Before too long, Jim opened the door, grinning widely under his trim moustache. “Ready to go, bud?” he asked. He was wearing his trademark cut-off jorts, sensible hiking boots, and a hot pink t-shirt with a faded outline of Texas on it.

Travis smiled in response – to think this had all come about because of a drunken conversation only a few nights ago – “Yep, let’s hit the road.”

“Just gimme a hand with these two bags, and I’ll get my backpack from the bedroom.” Jim turned away, yet raised his voice to be heard as he continued talking. “I’ve got all the cooking equipment, and a decent amount of food, but I think we should pick up a few things on the way…” His voice became muffled for a few moments, then he returned and Travis picked up the end of a sentence, “… one of the newer models, completely waterproof!”

It was apparent that Jim was excited, and it was infectious. Travis found himself smiling as he watched the other man stuff a final pair of socks into his rucksack.

“I’ll just get some ‘skeeter spray from the kitchen, then I think that’s everything.”

Travis picked up the two bags Jim had indicated, they were heavy, and one clanked as he moved it. Then, as Jim darted back from the kitchen and picked up his own backpack, Travis stepped out of the apartment into the bright Nevada sunshine. Behind him, Travis could hear Jim rattling around to lock his door, but he continued walking to his car. 

Jim quickly caught up, walking alongside Travis the short distance across the parking lot. The Lieutenant smiled brightly at his Deputy, and Travis had to remind himself not to gawk at Jim’s perfectly coiffed and blonded hair or his whitened teeth and instead smiled shyly back.

This was going to be an interesting weekend.

***

As they drove away from the apartment complex, Jim had been delighted when Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Second Hand News’ had started to play from the car stereo. He had been doubly delighted when Travis had started to sing along, not missing a word, but missing quite a few notes. The usually stern cop made up for his lack of tone with a surprising amount of enthusiasm, and Jim joined him for the choruses.

After picking up some items Jim had deemed vital (marshmallows, corn kernels, a bag of gummy bears), they’d finally hit the highway and left Reno behind. It was a two-hour drive from Reno, across the California border, to Plumas National Forest.

The two men passed the time either enjoying the scenery, or comfortably talking.

Jim described the last time he’d been to the National Forest as they drove. He’d gone by himself for a long-ish hike last fall. It had been beautiful. Rolling, fir-tree covered land folding into perfectly blue lakes. He’d climbed all the way to the top of a lookout, watched the sunset and spent the night. 

This time, Jim wanted to visit a waterfall he’d heard about on an online forum – the Seven Falls Swimming Hole, so he navigated Travis towards the closest campsite to the falls. By the time they reached the site, it was late afternoon.

The campsite was deserted – evidently Jim had chosen a good weekend to go, likely because schools were still in session.

Jim stepped out of the car first and wandered around to scope a good pitching spot. When he looked back at Travis, the Deputy’s back was turned and he was doing some quad stretches beside the car. Jim took a gratuitous moment to admire the shape of Travis’ ass in his well-fitted jeans, then wandered over to the car to remove their bags from the trunk.

Setting up the tent was a nightmare. Neither of them could figure out where all the poles went, or why there were two separate layers, or how many pegs were needed for each corner. 

Travis looked at their handiwork, his head tilting slightly. “D’ya think it’s supposed to be all wobbly on top like that? Or that those ropes should just be sitting there, loose?”

Jim let out a small scream of frustration, “Fuuuuck!”

“I thought you said you went camping all the time?”

Jim glared at Travis, sweat beading on his brow from struggling with a recalcitrant pole, “I do. But this is a new tent.”

“Well, why’s this a new tent if you go camping all the time?” Travis smirked, instinctively poking fun at his superior officer.

“Because I only had a one-man tent, and we needed a two-man.” Jim flushed, embarrassed.

Travis’ smirk lessened as he processed what Jim had said, “Wait… so you bought a tent, a new tent, just for this weekend?”

“Well, yeah…”

“Oh.”

A silence descended as Travis tried to think of what to say, Jim becoming obviously more and more embarrassed until he burst out.

“Just give me a quarter hour with it, get the other stuff out of the car, I’ll fix it.”

Travis did as he was told, and unpacked the car while Jim cursed at the tent. When he was done, he got two beers out of the icebox, opened them and wandered over to Jim’s side.

The tent was looking much better – no more wobbling, and all ropes tied away – and Travis’ wordlessly passed Jim one of the beers, receiving a tight smile in return. 

“Hey, uh…” Travis cleared his throat, “I think it’s real nice you bought a new tent, just for this weekend. I, uh, I hope it didn’t cost too much.”

Jim’s shoulders seemed to relax more, and he smiled at Travis again, more genuinely. “Nah, it was on sale.”

“Good. It’s just, you know, a real thoughtful thing to do, Jim, so… uh, thank you.”

Jim shrugged, “Well, I couldn’t make you sleep in your car. Or,” Jim laughed uncomfortably, “on top of me in my single tent.”

Travis breathed in to steady himself, as he decided to do something rash. He leaned closer to Jim and, with a thrill of nerves, kissed him on the cheek. So quickly and lightly, it might have been nothing. But nothing wouldn’t make Travis’ heart beat so damn fast. 

Leaning back, he nervously watched Jim for a reaction. When the other man appeared to be frozen, Travis decided to fucking double down. “You know,” he remarked, more casually than he felt, “I wouldn’t necessarily have minded sleeping on top of you.”

Jim took a sharp breath, but before he could say anything, Travis turned tail and walked to the tree line. “I’ll get some firewood then?” he called over his shoulder, “That’s what you do when you’re camping right?”

***

After _fucking_ kissing _fucking_ Jim _fucking_ Dangle, Travis wandered behind a copse of trees and had a small freak out. _What the fuck kind of line was that? Sleep on top of you? What does that mean??_

But he got a grip of himself as quickly as possible, collected a huge armful of sticks and soon returned to the campsite to see Jim just coming out of the tent. 

The Lieutenant smiled at him, “I just set up our sleeping bags. You can dump the wood by the fire pit and I’ll build us a fire to get some dinner going.”

Travis ducked his head, still embarrassed, “Alright.”

Jim joined him beside the fire pit, kneeling to start stacking sticks over a small clump of dried grass. Without looking up, Jim asked, “So… I kinda wanna talk about what happened back there.”

Travis cleared his throat.

“But, I’m also kinda starving, and it’s always nicer to talk over food, so why don’t we save that particular conversation ‘til we’re eating?”

Travis felt the tension in his shoulders slough off. Trust Jim to know exactly how to put him at ease. Still, he found himself stuttering an apology. “I- I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking—“

But Jim quickly cut him off, pausing in his activity and looking up at Travis directly “Don’t apologize! Never apologize for something like that. Not with me.” 

“Oh.”

Jim paused a moment before returning to the task of lighting the fire. “I hope you like hot dogs. ‘Cos that’s all I feel like cooking.”

***

Fire-cooked hot dogs turned out to be a hundred times better than regular hot dogs – at least, that’s what Travis told Jim when he tried them for the first time that evening.

After diffusing the situation, Jim had purposefully kept conversation light. He had been genuinely astonished at Travis’ actions. He’d assumed all this time that Travis was completely straight, and just a good buddy. But when Travis had kissed his cheek, he’d had to very quickly reassess everything he’d thought about the man, and about their past interactions. 

Judging by the look on Travis’ face as he’d returned from collecting firewood, Jim knew his friend was struggling. 

Jim was a man who was generally comfortable with his sexuality. Sure, he’d had some weird experiences with ladies, but his proclivities generally ran towards men. These days, he had come to terms with himself, and now thought about himself as gay – even though he didn’t really openly discuss the fact at work, or on the rare occasions he saw his parents. 

As the two men finished up their simple meal, both cracking open a new beer each, Jim kicked his legs out comfortably (or as comfortably as he could get, sitting on a log), and looked over at Travis. 

“What’cha thinking ‘bout?”

Travis returned Jim’s gaze with a cocked eyebrow, “Well, what do you think, dumbass.”

Jim raised his hands in deference, smiling to hear his friend’s snark returning. “Alright, alright. Well then, talk to me.”

There was a long stretch of silence as Travis appeared to study the smoldering fire intently. When he spoke, his voice was soft.

“I only really figured out I was bi a couple years ago. And that was after I met a guy in my trailer park who asked me out. I went on a date with him, partly ‘cos I thought it’d be funny, but then I realized I was kind of into him, and I kind of had to reassess some stuff. We were never really a thing, me and that guy, but looking back on it now, I guess it’s kind of nice that he helped me figure out a part of myself.”

Jim watched his Deputy fiddle with his beer can as he talked, still staring into the fire. 

“I only realized I was into you, Jim,” Travis’ gaze lifted to look at him, before returning quickly to the flames, “a couple months ago. I dunno… I just knew that I liked being with you, and I wanted to spend more time with you. And your stupid, fucking shorts, I know I used to make fun of them all the time, but then I realized I was just covering up the fact that I found them kind of sexy.”

Jim stifled a snort of laughter, but Travis heard him and looked up again – smiling this time. “Do you know how fucking dumb that is? Realizing that after all this time, I hadn’t been staring at your butt ‘cos I thought it was funny – which is what I’d been telling myself – but staring, because… well, because…” he paused, “because you’re kinda sexy.”

At that, Jim genuinely laughed, unable to contain it. “Lord, Travis, what the hell?”

“Did I really hide it that well?”

Jim made a so-so gesture with his hand, “I guess, but now I know why you were fine spending so much time with me off-duty.”

Now, Travis laughed. And it just felt good to share these feelings with the man he cared for. 

Jim looked over at Travis, a half-smile on his lips and a soppy look in his eyes.  
“Well, are you gonna come over here, or what?”

Travis blinked a few times. _Was he?_

_Yeah, he was._

He stood, stretching, knowing he was showing off his toned stomach as his t-shirt rode up, then he wandered slowly over to Jim, still sporting a semi-embarrassed smile. When he reached Jim’s side, he leaned over with an amount of confidence he did not truly feel (again, his heart was beating a-mile-a-minute) and made to kiss his Lieutenant’s cheek again.

But, instead of allowing Travis to repeat what had happened that afternoon, at the last second, Jim turned his face so that Travis’ kiss landed directly on his lips. 

Any surprise Travis felt at finding himself suddenly full-on kissing his superior officer quickly melted into desire as he realized he was finally doing what he’d been wanting to do for months.

Kissing Jim was odd, but in a good way, in a really good way. It was unlike anything else Travis had experienced, unlike other short-term relationships or one-night-stands, this felt real and solid. Travis found himself absently hoping this could last forever. 

Another thing that surprised Travis, was how the feeling of the other man’s moustache was kind of _sexy_. When Jim's tongue brushed along Travis’ bottom lip, he quickly opened his mouth, and soon found himself Frenching like the best of ‘em. 

Suddenly, the sensations were too much, and Travis had forgotten how to breathe. He broke of the kiss, and stood for a moment with his eyes closed, still stooping to Jim's level, and just breathing. He gradually became aware that Jim’s hands were holding either side of his face.

“You feelin’ alright, hun?”

Travis nodded silently, opening his eyes and biting his lip.

“D’you wanna sit?”

Again Travis nodded and sat beside Jim on his campfire log. Jim put a comforting arm around Travis’ shoulder and leaned up to kiss his temple.

“Is this still ok?”

Jim’s voice was so gentle, so careful, that Travis turned to look in his eyes. “Yeah, Jim,” he breathed “this is perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, it’s been ages since I’ve written anything, but I’ve been bitten by some sort of writing bug again, so here we are. This was typed out in a night, so if you spot a typo, please comment and let me know! :) Also concrit is deeply appreciated!
> 
> If there is just one other person out there who enjoys this fluffy little piece about camping and realizing love, I will be satisfied.
> 
> Also, if I can somehow keep this writing juice flowing, I will try to write more, I have some ideas for the end of the boys' trip ;)


End file.
